


Nothing

by kalijean



Series: Arch to the Sky [48]
Category: due South
Genre: Arch to the Sky, Chicago (1995-1998), Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-04
Updated: 2011-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-23 10:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/249192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kalijean/pseuds/kalijean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1998: Dewey doesn't know why he kept the thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nothing

He found it in the desk when he moved in.

Dewey figured it probably said something about his hinges - and being kinda off 'em - that he kept the damn thing. Some kind of exercise in inferiority, maybe. He thought he should've thrown it out; every time somebody slipped and called him by the wrong name, he thought about it. A couple of times he'd balled the thing up and tossed it in the garbage just to take it back out a few minutes later.

Once he even had the damn thing dry-cleaned after Thompson tossed a half cup of coffee in after it.

It had been stashed in the desk behind a bunch of old pencils and a pad. Dewey had seen the flash of bright and knew instantly from the pictures what it was. He'd yanked it before anyone else saw and stuffed it in a pocket.

Now he kept it in his own desk, behind his own generic crap.

When he'd reach in to get something he'd catch a flash of yellow-orange-red-ugly and wonder all over again why he had it. He was being weird. It's not like Dewey knew the guy. It's not like he was happy to be the poor guy's replacement, or he needed some kind of reminder that he was. And he damn sure wasn't going to wear the thing. It was the ugliest tie he'd ever seen. Who the Hell thought _that_ was a good combination of colors for _plaid_?

Did Gardino transfer in to the academy from clown school or something?

Dewey laughed at his own joke. It was hilarious. He could be the invisible third guy at their comedy club. All the One-Liner needed.

"What's so funny?" Frannie wandered by to drop unoriginality on Dewey's desk, hand on her hip.

"Your face," Dewey shot back, shoving the tie back in the drawer and dipping into the playground comebacks.

"Hah-hah, funny guy. I was just trying to be nice. Teach me to take an interest." She dumped a cup of coffee in his trash can. It sloshed, threatening to splatter. "And you can get your own coffee from now on, mister."

Dewey stared at his own trash can. "Fine by me. I could make better coffee out of my gym shoes."

"Ugh. You're such a _pig_ , Tom." Frannie's disgusted look dropped when it apparently landed on his drawer. "Hey, what's that?"

The drawer was shut with a screech of metal and deceptive speed, and Frannie actually jumped.

"Nothing."

Those _eyebrows_ of hers went up and after the moment's shock, she held her own coffee to her cheek, eyeballing him. She set it down. "Didn't look like nothing."

"It's _nothing_ , Frannie."

Dewey stared at her.

Frannie stared back.

Dewey's eyebrows went up.

Frannie squinted.

Somewhere, Dewey thought maybe the music from The Good, The Bad and The Ugly was playing.

The scramble was swift, her little body surprisingly _forceful_ when she wanted it to be and those scary-long fingernails prying at his drawer at the same time as Dewey was trying to jam it closed again and hold it there.

He didn't register it when she actually _assed_ him back into his chair, but the scuffle ended with a bounce in his seat and his drawer open. In the seconds that followed, he told himself that was just because he wasn't willing to really shove a woman.

Dewey rubbed his forehead as she unraveled the ghastly tie from his drawer.

"Is this...?" Frannie asked, holding it up.

"It's. _Nothing_."

Her eyes went wide in that look she got when she figured out somebody really was a freak. She held the tie by two fingers, like it was a rancid banana peel or something. Dewey put down the urge to flinch. After a few seconds, her look dropped to something like pity.

Dewey hated that look more.

She put the tie back in the drawer, shut it, waved both hands at him and walked off a few steps. Didn't take her long to turn around. Dewey really wished she hadn't.

Suddenly, it was _his_ tie she had by the long pink fingernails, and he was on his feet again.

"C'mon. I'm taking you for better coffee."

"Frannie--"

"Shut up and let me buy you coffee."

"Look, I don't know what you think I--"

She spun on her heel, shoved his tie in his open mouth, and dragged him out of the precinct by the hand.

He didn't even think to spit it out until he was out the door.


End file.
